


Unexpected Change of Heart

by JGogoboots



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGogoboots/pseuds/JGogoboots
Summary: FYI - underage tag is just for consensual mild smuttiness between two teenagers because I believe they're 17 in the game and not yet 18.So I made a Tumblr post saying this a few days ago: "I just want a fic where Mishima has a praise kink and accidentally finds out about it when Akira calls him a “good boy” (in a non sexual context) and he gets embarrassed and it quickly turns into arousal and he’s just confused about what’s happening and Akira’s thinking “oh you precious cinnamon roll, I know exactly what that blushing is about and I’m gonna help you with that immediately.” Is that too much to ask?"I couldn't get the idea out of my head so I wrote this fic and now it has somehow morphed into a multi-chapter fic I have a plot outline for?! Hope you enjoy it! Comments and kudos give me life. :D Fic rating and tags subject to change depending on how smutty it gets in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re such a good boy, Mishima.” He said it offhandedly, more as a joke than anything else. As soon as the words left his mouth and hung awkwardly in the air like a clunky ellipsis, he regretted it. The silence was deafening, and Akira opened his mouth to apologize. He hadn’t meant for it to come across as patronizing or belittling. He wasn’t sure what he _had_ meant, but that wasn’t it.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Mishima-san. I didn’t mean – ” Akira placed a hand on Mishima’s shoulder and froze mid-sentence once he leaned in and saw his friend’s blushing cheeks. The slim boy’s breath was coming out in short, shallow puffs, and he looked ready to make a run for it any second now, a light sheen of nervous sweat dotting his forehead.

“Ummm, I…havetogonowI’llseeyoulaterbye,” Mishima blurted out messily before shutting his laptop with a noisy click and hightailing it out of the diner booth like his life depended on it.

Akira dropped his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. _I’m such an idiot_. He’d been wanting to get closer to Mishima for a while now, but the shy boy was making it difficult. It was far from easy to get him to open up, let alone even switch conversation gears from the Phansite to…well…any other topic at all. He tended to get tunnel vision when it came to helping the Phantom Thieves and while that was extremely helpful for Mementos requests and keeping their name in the public’s consciousness, it wasn’t so great for getting Akira what _he_ wanted.

Now he felt like he had blown his chances over some dumb throwaway comment that sent his friend into a devastating spiral of mortification. And even worse, he also felt ridiculous for obsessing over this. It really hammered home just how hard he was crushing on Mishima these days, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that meant it was obvious to him or anyone else around them. He couldn’t let Mishima know. It was too risky. What if he didn’t just reject him but was completely disgusted and never wanted to talk to him again? Both a friendship and an important asset to the Phantom Thieves would be ruined in one fell swoop.

Akira grabbed his bag, forlornly trudged to the subway station, and boarded the train back to Yongenjaya. He shoved down all his feelings, trying to save himself from being too anxious to sleep. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it right now anyway. Maybe things would seem less dire in the morning.

 

                                                                                __________________

 

Days went by, and Akira didn’t hear a word from Mishima. While that wasn’t _totally_ unusual (sometimes there weren’t any new Mementos requests or other news to merit contact), he couldn’t help but wonder if Mishima was avoiding him. He tried not to fixate on it but kept spacing off in class, delivering wrong answers every time a teacher called on him. Even Ryuji of all people, not the most perceptive on his _best_ days, noticed.

“Hey man, the hell’s up with you? You’ve been all space cadet lately. I expect that from me hehe but not you.” The blonde’s forehead creased in concern as he glanced over at his friend. They were supposed to be quietly reading, but Kawakami looked every bit as bored and uninterested as her students, yawning at her desk and impatiently watching the clock. Akira wondered if she’d picked up an extra shift with the maid service last night.

“It’s nothing. I just haven’t been sleeping that great.” He gave Ryuji a half-hearted smile that he hoped would shut down any further inquiry.

“Okay, well rest up soon, man. You know we gotta stay in tiptop shape for you-know-what.” Ryuji smiled back and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll just get to bed early tonight.”

Akira checked his phone and groaned. No new messages.

 

                                                                                ___________________

 

He typed and deleted and retyped a text to Mishima no less than fifteen times before tossing his phone on the bed and turning on the TV.

“What are you so worked up about?” Morgana hopped onto the bed and curled up in a semi-circle.

“I think I upset Mishima, and I’m not sure what to do about it.” Akira ran a tired hand through his hair and leaned against the wall behind the bed.

“Just say you’re sorry. You’re friends, right? I’m sure he’ll understand,” Morgana said matter-of-factly, lazily scratching behind one furry ear.

“You make it sound so easy.” Akira laughed softly.

“Isn’t it? It seems like teenagers make everything needlessly complicated. It makes my head hurt,” Morgana said exasperatedly.

“Yeah, you might be right about that.” He picked up his phone. Just as he was about to take Morgana’s advice, his phone emitted the telltale vibration of a text notification.

**Hey, I got a couple promising requests on the forum last night. Want me to send them your way?**

Akira heaved a huge sigh of relief and started to type out a response.

**Sure, can we meet at my place? I have a couple things I wanted to talk to you about.**

Maybe being somewhere private and quiet would make Mishima more relaxed. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it earlier.

**Oh…sure. We could do that I guess. What did you want to talk about?**

**I’d rather say in person. Tomorrow night good?**

**Yeah, sounds great.**

**You need the address?**

**No, I can just Google Leblanc. See you tomorrow.**

Akira smiled and tried not to think too much about Mishima in his room, on his couch, in his bed. Yuuki’s beautiful ivory cheeks turning pink when Akira called him a good boy. He tried not to think about Mishima’s lips meeting his, how soft and slick and warm he knew they’d feel sliding against his. _Get ahold of yourself. It’s NOT going to happen._ He turned off the TV and laid down to sleep, feeling ready to peacefully drift off for the first time all week.

 

                                                                                ______________________

 

Akira rushed home after school, giving his room a quick once over and promptly scolding himself for caring and prepping like this was some sort of date that it most certainly was _not_. He had successfully convinced Morgana to split for a few hours and go off exploring the city on his own. Boss had closed up shop early to run some errands too so they would be completely alone. On one hand, Akira was overjoyed about this. On the other hand, it made him a nervous wreck. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to make the ill-advised decision to just _leap_ at his friend once they were alone together. He was so sweet and loyal and soft-spoken, and Akira found himself drawn to that more and more each day like a helplessly flailing fish on a reel. His phone buzzed.

**Hey, I’m outside.**

**Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.**

Akira took the stairs two at a time and rushed to the front door. His heart skipped a beat when he opened it. God, he looked so cute. The sun glinted off his shiny dark blue hair, and his cheeks were flushed from the heat of the June day. He flashed a small, nervous smile and stepped inside.

“It’s a nice little café. I’ve never been inside before. I don’t get out this way much.” Mishima glanced around at the inside of the ship, and Akira wondered if he was trying purposely not to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, it’s cozy. Sojiro makes amazing coffee and curry too. He’s been teaching me how to replicate it a couple nights a week after he closes up.” Akira’s eyes roved over his friend’s trim body, and he forced himself to chase away all thoughts of what it might look like under that white t-shirt.

“Getting any good at it?” Yuuki asked, finally looking at Akira with those big, bright eyes.

“I’m still pretty hit or miss, but I’m getting better each time.” Akira smiled warmly and motioned toward the stairs. “My room’s just up there.”

The two boys made their way upstairs, and Akira begged his heart to stop racing as Mishima took a seat on the sofa.

“So…what did you want to tell me? You were so mysterious…it made me kinda nervous.” Mishima folded his hands in his lap and looked up imploringly.

“Oh…well, I feel really bad about what happened the other night. What I said, you…you ran out of there so fast afterward, and then we didn’t talk for days so I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” Akira rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to the sofa before taking a seat a calculated distance away from the smaller boy. “Anyway, I’m really sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not even sure why I said it. I hope you’re not still mad at me.”

Akira looked up cautiously and tried to read Mishima’s expression, but he just looked like his usual reserved self.

“Oh, I-I wasn’t mad at you,” Yuuki stammered, averting his eyes and focusing on the floor.

“Oh, that’s a relief to hear, but then…why did you run away?” Akira gently asked.

“Umm…I don’t think I can tell you that.” Mishima blushed fiercely, and Akira resisted the urge to reach out and put a placating arm around him.

“Why not? Mishima, one of the things I wanted to tell you is that I wish we could be closer. It seems like every time we’re together, we mostly just talk about Phantom Thieves stuff. I can count on one hand the times we’ve veered off topic, and I just…I hope you know you can talk to me. I hope you know I want you around for more than just help with spreading the word about the Thieves.” Akira shifted his body toward the other boy’s, making it harder for him to look away this time. “Why don’t we start that now? Tell me what bothered you.”

“That’s just it. It _didn’t_ bother me.” Mishima sighed and clasped his chin in his palm, elbow resting in the middle of his thigh.

“Okay…you’re going to need to be more specific here because I’m kind of lost. What do you mean – ”

“I _liked_ it!” Mishima exclaimed, promptly covering his mouth in horror. “Damn it, this is so embarrassing…You’re gonna hate me now.”

Drawing his knees up to his chest, he buried his face behind his thighs with a groan.

Akira’s heart soared, and his mind raced with options of what to say next. He knew this was a delicate situation. One wrong move and Mishima would flee again.

“I don’t hate you. Not at all. In fact, I’m really glad to hear this.” He scooted closer but still didn’t touch him.

“Wh-why? It’s not…I mean, you know what I _meant_ when I said I liked it, don’t you?” Mishima lifted his head a couple inches but didn’t turn to look in Akira’s direction.

“Yes, I think I do…” Akira whispered. Heart thumping thickly in his chest, Akira took a deep breath and placed his arm around Mishima’s shoulders.

Some of the tension left the other boy’s muscles as he relaxed into the touch. Still tentative and uncertain but curious nonetheless.

“Are you saying you…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Akira sensed he was too afraid to do so. His shoulders trembled ever so slightly.

“When I said I wanted to be closer to you, I didn’t mean just in a friendly way. I mean, I _did_ mean it like that because I didn’t think there was any chance you would be comfortable with me saying what I really felt. So I planned on just ignoring it and never telling you, but…if you feel like this too…I’d really like to spend more time with you. If you want that.” Akira kept his tone quiet and reassuring, fingers now lightly stroking Mishima’s shoulder. Though his exterior remained calm, every cell inside him was screaming with happiness. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Every time his fingertips made contact with the object of his affection, it felt like electricity coursing through his veins.

“We shouldn’t…I mean, it’s not something you’re supposed to do, right?” Mishima’s eyes met his friend’s, and Akira could see the turmoil contained within them. Akira mostly didn’t care about what other people thought. It sort of came with the territory of having a criminal record at such a young age and already being accustomed to society shunning him. But he understood this wasn’t an easy thing to accept within oneself, and everyone had to arrive at that acceptance in their own time. Though his heart sank at the prospect of losing this chance over Mishima’s misgivings and guilt about having romantic feelings for someone of the same sex, he knew he couldn’t force him to explore the relationship if he wasn’t ready.

“I’ve never been much for following what you’re _supposed_ to do according to what others say. I wouldn’t be with the Phantom Thieves if I cared much about things like that. But I can’t make the decision for you, and I don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I’ll just say that I’d be pretty heartbroken if you let that get in the way of trying this. I really like you, and I really want to be with you as long as you want that too.” Akira looked into his eyes and hoped everything he felt for Mishima was written in his gaze. Mishima’s eyes softened and all worry faded for a little while, every concern replaced by excitement and affection. It was clearly a turn of events neither of them had quite expected.

“I’m still kind of shocked that you like me. I feel like it hasn’t totally hit me yet.” Mishima laughed nervously and turned his torso until his leg brushed up against Akira’s, both of them gasping a little at the sudden contact.

_Of course I do. How couldn’t I? Just look at you._

Akira kept the thought to himself, too afraid of embarrassing the boy again. A timid hand reached up and cupped Mishima’s cheek before he thought better of it. It was like an out of body experience as he heard his own voice say, “Can I kiss you, Yuuki?”

Mishima’s face reddened at the personal form of address, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. That was all the permission Akira needed.

Threading the fingers of his free hand through Yuuki’s blue-black hair, he touched his lips against the other boy’s in a feather light kiss. The only sound in the room was their quickening breath and the soft joining of their mouths. Mishima gasped quietly, emboldening Akira to try it again but firmer, more sure this time. Mishima hummed sweetly into his mouth, and Akira couldn’t suppress the deep groan that rumbled from his chest in response, lips parting ever so slightly to trace his tongue along Mishima’s bottom lip. The smaller boy’s lips opened up for him, and they both moaned as their tongues brushed together for the first time, tentatively exploring each other. Uncertainty faded away into urgency as they melted into the kiss, Akira audaciously pulling Mishima closer until he was straddling his lap. Mishima finally removed his arms from where they hung at his sides and wrapped them around the middle of Akira’s back, hugging him tighter every second. Akira let his hands roam up and down Mishima’s back, gentle, long, comforting strokes as much for Mishima’s benefit as his own. Part of Akira still thought of him as a frightened rabbit who might jump away at the slightest misstep, so he refrained from any bolder touches, content with every little thing he was getting now. Only an hour ago he’d been convinced this would never, ever happen, and here he was with Mishima ardently kissing him, arms clutching each other close.

They finally broke for air, and Mishima blinked at him from under half-lidded eyes.

“That was…wow…”

“For lack of a better word, yeah…wow is right.” Akira smiled and kissed Mishima’s cheek. “I’m glad you came over today.”

“Me too,” the other boy whispered. Suddenly, his brow knit together as his mouth downturned into a frown. “Can we keep this just between us right now? I don’t think I’m ready to deal with – ”

“Don’t worry,” Akira interrupted, reassuring hand combing through Mishima’s hair. “Like I said, the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.” Mishima smiled shyly and lowered his head to rest in the crook of Akira’s neck, lips planting a couple soft kisses against the heated skin. “Is it okay if we just sit like this for a while?”

“As long as you want.” Akira squeezed him tighter, barely able to believe his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's chapter 1! Hope you dug this tooth-rottingly sweet fluff. It'll give way to something more angsty if I continue with what I have planned for it though. I'm writing this in-between chapters of a Hannigram fic so I'm not sure how frequently it will update, but I don't have anyone to beta it at the moment, so that may make it move a littler faster. Forgive the horridly uninventive title!
> 
> If you feel up for beta-ing, find me on Tumblr. Or if you just want to find me to say hi, that's cool too of course. :D [It's Me!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/punchedbymarkesmith)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more precious-Mishima-having-a-praise-kink for you. :) I'm a little unsure about this fic so far. In some ways, it's a lot different from others I've done so hopefully you like it! Comments and kudos give me life.
> 
> Oh...and I guess we crossed over into that mature/explicit rating faster than anticipated. Oh well :P

After that first kiss, it was like a door had opened. Mishima was still Mishima. Diffident, careful, unsure of himself. Akira was pretty much in the position of initiator by default, but he didn’t mind. The important thing was that, timid or not, Yuuki still made it clear that he wanted this. It no longer required arm-twisting to get him to talk about something other than official Phantom Thieves business or meet just to hang out without a specific agenda.

He still lived in fear of someone finding out about their relationship, but Akira’s unusual living situation seemed to put him at ease. Sojiro wasn’t around after the café closed, and even during business hours, he tended to steer clear of Akira’s room. Sakura was a pretty reserved man himself so he wasn’t in the habit of intruding on the privacy of others.

When they were alone, Yuuki became a different, more relaxed person. He laughed more. He finally started to tell Akira more about himself. They were mostly simple things like what he did in his spare time when the Phansite wasn’t consuming all of his free hours, but it was a start. Akira learned that he liked quiet, sprawling art films which definitely suited his personality. He learned that he wasn’t sure if he planned to stay in Japan for college but didn’t know where else to go or how to make it happen.

Mishima was more of an observer than a participant when it came to life in general. He was thoughtful and tended to speak slowly as if weighing each word on his tongue before deciding to give it shape. While he wasn’t completely taciturn, he wasn’t prone to babbling or filling the space with idle chatter. Akira liked that about him. It made it all the more meaningful when he _did_ talk. More often than not, most people opted for speaking without thinking instead. 

They were lying in Akira’s bed one rainy Saturday, torsos pressed together, warm hands slipping under t-shirts to explore soft skin, lips gently nipping along jawlines and collarbones, when he decided to push his luck and ask about something more hard-hitting.

“Yuuki?”

“Mm-hmm.” Mishima’s voice was muffled as he kissed Akira’s neck, drawing gasps from the other boy, his eyelids fluttering.

“Dammit, I can’t think when you do that.” Akira chuckled.

“So don’t,” Mishima joked, smiling into Akira’s skin as he kissed his way up to his plush lips. “Thinking is overrated. I think way too much. This is much better, isn’t it?”

Drinking in the sight of Mishima like this, dark hair disheveled from rolling around in the sheets, cheeks rosy with arousal, wet lips parted and inviting, Akira had to agree. Still, he persisted.

“It _is_ , but I wanted to ask you something a little serious. If that’s okay.”

“Oh…” Yuuki furrowed his brow, and Akira kissed the little crease that appeared on his forehead.

“You’re so cute when you get that worried look,” Akira said with a smile.

“Stop.” Yuuki blushed hotly, a sight Akira was beginning to enjoy seeing and seeing frequently at that.

“Never.” The taller boy tickled his ribs, and Mishima squirmed and swatted his hand away.

“So what did you want to ask, Mr. Mysterious?” He mocked.

“I’m not that mysterious.”

“Transfer student with a rumored past, student by day, Phantom Thief by night. Nope. Not mysterious _at all_.” Mishima traced the edge of Akira’s collarbone with a careful fingertip. “You always let me know when you’re about to ask something important instead of just asking it. Like you’re building suspense or something.”

“I guess I just feel like I have to…prepare you.”

“Prepare me?” Mishima gazed up at him with a quizzical frown.

“Yes…you’re…” He struggled for the right words to articulate what he was feeling. He also didn’t want to offend him. “You scare easily sometimes. Like if I phrase it the wrong way or ask at the wrong time, you might clam up and stop talking.”

“Sounds like I’m really difficult to deal with,” the smaller boy whispered despondently, withdrawing from their tight embrace and lying on his stomach.

“Not at all. You’re just private and careful about who you trust. Nothing wrong with that. Most people give up too much too easily.” Akira pressed up against his side, a hand reaching up to cradle the back of his neck and stroke down the length of his back.

“But I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.” Yuuki turned his head to the side to meet Akira’s eyes.

“Ok, well let me ask you something about yourself.”

Mishima nodded to indicate he could continue.

“Why didn’t your parents do anything about Kamoshida? They had to have known, right? All those bruises…” A fierce protective urge swelled within Akira at the thought of Mishima when they had first met, vulnerable and in pain with nowhere to turn. No one to advocate for him. He and Ryuji had wondered about the lack of intervention from the parents of the volleyball team members at the time, but Akira had only recently begun to think about it in the specific context of Mishima’s family. Mishima hadn’t said a word about them the entire time they’d known each other.

Yuuki remained silent and buried his face in the pillow.

“Yuuuukkkii.” Akira kissed the other boy’s shoulder and nuzzled the back of his neck. “You’re not exactly disproving me if you hide your face after the first question.”

“Soorryy,” Mishima drawled. He heaved a sigh and turned his face to the side again. “They’re just not my favorite topic.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed that already.” Akira hid his smile against the curved slope of Yuuki’s shoulder.

“They’re…perfectionists, and they expect me to be too. Achieving regardless of consequence is more important to them than bowing out because of hardship.” Yuuki sounded like he was regurgitating a lecture that had been given to him many times.

“Physical abuse is just a necessary ‘hardship’ to them?!” Slipping his hands between the bed and his boyfriend’s stomach, he held him tightly, trying to squash the anger rising in his chest like the prick of a hundred tiny needles. “That’s messed up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine…I guess I only have another couple years there anyway.” Yuuki closed his eyes and reached underneath him to cover Akira’s hand with his own. “I just try not to think about it too hard.”

“They don’t…” Panic seized Akira, his throat tightening as he asked, “They don’t hurt you like Kamoshida did…do they?”

“No, no,” Mishima assured him, head twisting around to meet Akira’s gaze. “Only emotionally.”

Yuuki tried to laugh off his last comment but stopped when the expression of the boy pressed against his back remained grave.

“Don’t look so worried. I promise, it’s not as bad as it sounds. They’re strict, they expect a lot, I think millions of Japanese teenagers could say the same thing about their parents. I’m not special.” He turned around in the embrace until they were chest to chest.

“You are special.” Akira planted a soft kiss on his lips. “To me anyway. So yeah, I do care if they’re making you feel shitty about yourself.”

“Thanks.” Yuuki kissed him back and let out a pleased hum when Akira’s palm slipped under his shirt.

“Do they know about your work on the Phan-site?”

“Not really…I tried to mention it once and…” Yuuki shook his head and tucked his chin to his chest.

“They didn’t go for it?”

“My dad mumbled something about not having time for my ‘frivolous concerns’ and went back to reading the paper. My mom just gave me one of her signature cold glares which is maybe even worse. Can we please stop talking about this now?” Yuuki begged with a groan.  

“Okay, okay, enough depressing family stuff for now.” Akira rolled off him, lying on his left side and pulling Yuuki closer until they were face to face. He leaned in for a gentle kiss that evolved into something hungrier that deepened with every stroke of tongue against tongue. They gripped each other more urgently, the teasing friction of their bodies becoming almost too much to bear as their hips grinded together in a steady rhythm. Akira pushed Yuuki’s shirt up around his chest, his alabaster stomach fully exposed now.

“Can I take this off?” Akira breathlessly asked, tugging slightly at the cotton fabric between his fingers. Yuuki responded with a jerky nod. The smaller boy lifted his arms as Akira pulled upward, lifting the t-shirt over Yuuki’s head and dropping it on the floor behind him. He paused to take in the sight of Mishima’s naked chest, running his palms over the smooth, pale skin. Yuuki was slim and not very muscular. There was something so delicate and soft in his physique that was irresistible to Akira and always consumed him with the urgent need to hold him close and cover every inch of that skin with reverent kisses.

“You’re so beautiful, Yuuki,” He whispered as he traced a finger down the length of his torso, stopping just before the waistband of his pants.

“No, I’m not,” Yuuki quietly responded, his cheeks turning crimson. Taking the focus away from his embarrassment, he grasped the edge of Akira’s shirt. “Umm…can I…”

Not waiting for the end of that question, the other boy quickly discarded the shirt, anxious to finally feel skin pressed against skin. Yuuki smiled bashfully as his hands explored Akira’s body, fingers memorizing the curves and dips of the muscles. Too timid to be aggressive, his fingertips just skimmed the surface everywhere they went, the lightest, teasing touch that Akira found altogether too adorable for words.

Akira leaned in to meet his lips again, a hand curling around the small of his boyfriend’s back. Trailing his lips down to Yuuki’s neck, he scraped his teeth against the sensitive flesh before closing his mouth in a tentative bite. Encouraged by the sweet moan it earned him, his mouth traveled to the space between shoulder and neck. He bit down a little harder this time, and Mishima clutched at Akira’s back, his hips bucking against the other boy. Akira could feel Yuuki’s erection rutting against his own now, and he wanted so desperately to touch him, to quiet his mind and make him relax for a while, to see what he looked like in that final moment before he came, if the rosy flush of his cheeks would deepen and travel down his chest as he panted into Akira’s ear.

As always, he was hesitant to pressure Mishima and preferred to let him set the pace to his own comfort level. On the other hand, he was starting to understand that Mishima liked him to take the reins, liked to be the one to sit back and surrender.

Brushing the bulge straining against Yuuki’s pants with questioning fingers, Akira kissed his ear and took the plunge.

“Is it okay if I touch you? I really want to,” He purred, the tips of his fingers dipping ever so slightly below the waistband of Yuuki’s jeans.

“N-no one’s ever done that before,” Yuuki breathily replied, leaning into the touch.

“If you’re not ready – ”

“No, I-I want you to, but I don’t know if I’m ready to um…return the favor I guess?” He squeezed his eyes shut, cringing at the choice of phrasing but unsure of how else to say it.

“I’m not doing it to get anything back.” Akira chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re always a _very_ good boy for me, Yuuki,” Akira cooed, hot tongue tracing the shell of his ear. “This is all I want right now.”

“It’s so embarrassing how much I like that.” Mishima moaned, fingers ardently digging into the other boy’s hip.

“What? Me telling you what a good boy you are?” Akira teased, deft hands unzipping Yuuki’s jeans. “Better get used to being embarrassed then because I plan on telling you _every time_ we’re together.”

A helpless whine left Mishima’s throat as Akira finished undressing him and guided him onto his back. Akira ran his fingers along the underside of Yuuki’s swollen cock, and a shiver of pleasure ran down the other boy’s body. Reticent as always, he averted his eyes, unable to meet Akira’s lustful gaze. It was obvious he was fighting against his own shyness, torn between watching Akira’s attentive hands and closing his eyes to hide the emotions flickering across his face. Akira gripped his erection and gave it a few careful tugs, vigilantly observing Mishima for any misgivings. He still wasn’t sure if he was rushing him and didn’t want to push for anything he wasn’t ready for.

Yuuki gasped at the contact, unused to being this close to Akira or anyone for that matter. Akira took time to appreciate this moment. He had gone from thinking this relationship was completely unattainable to having Mishima naked and moaning at his touch in a few short weeks. It was almost overwhelmingly satisfying, and now that they had finally arrived at this point, nerves were creeping up on him. It wasn’t like he was _vastly_ more experienced. He had some clumsy, fumbling intimacy with another guy back home, but that was nearly a year ago and not much help right now. Knowing that Yuuki would be taking confidence cues from him, Akira took a deep breath and tried to focus on the boy lying next to him.

He started to move his hand again, grasping Yuuki’s cock more firmly this time, listening for that delicious hitch in his breath. He twisted his wrist as his fingers glided over the head and back down. Mishima moaned, breath quickening now, and his eyes fluttered open. Cautiously glancing toward Akira, he reached out with the hand that had been nervously twitching at his side and cupped Akira’s cheek. Yuuki pulled him in for a kiss, panting into his mouth as Akira picked up the pace.

“Does it feel good?” Akira found he was almost as breathless as Mishima just from watching the boy come undone at his hands.

“Can’t you tell?” Yuuki laughed softly as the last word was swallowed by his stuttering breath.

“Yeah,” Akira laughed back. “Just making sure. Oh Yuuki…you look amazing like this.”

“I-I _ah_ ,” his thoughts were interrupted by another adept flick of Akira’s wrist. He was writhing and rocking toward Akira now, all self-consciousness drowned out by the sensations of his boyfriend’s warm hand stroking him closer to orgasm, his lips covering his neck and chest with gentle kisses.

“I w-want to see you like this too someday,” Mishima eventually managed to choke out. “I-I’m sorry that I – ”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Yuuki,” Akira soothed him. “I told you…you’re always such a good boy for me. Take your time.”

Hearing those words again tipped Mishima over the edge, and he came hot and wet over his stomach and Akira’s hand.

Akira held him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, not caring about the sticky mess forming between their stomachs as he combed a reassuring hand through Yuuki’s soft hair.

“Mmm that was perfect,” Yuuki hummed into the crook of Akira’s neck.

“You were perfect.” Akira grinned and withdrew from his arms just enough to kiss Yuuki’s forehead.

“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything other than lie there and moan,” Yuuki protested with a smile.

“ _Exactly._ ” Akira laughed and raised a flirty eyebrow.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline wise, we’re right before Futaba shows up in case you’re wondering. Some later things will be beyond the game’s events, but we’re lined up with it for now.
> 
> Have some Hawaii trip things planned because of course. :)
> 
> ETA: I see it’s Mishi Month? Are there prompts? Is it alright to tag this fic as such even if it’s not from a prompt? How does this work?! DIRECT ME TO ALL THE THINGS.


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